The Things We Do

The Things We Do By J.D. Walker “Scotty Reedville, if you stare any harder at that man, there’ll be holes in his pants,” my boss Gavin Chang said, shaking his well-coifed graying head and sighing at my obsessive behavior. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, snarky as ever. Still, I kept my eye on the tight-looking rear end of my unwanted crush through the glass window at the front of the office as he jogged toward a group of men standing by one of the company trucks. The snug, dusty blue jeans that emphasized toned legs and the long-sleeved black T-shirt that hugged his upper body and arms to perfection made me drool. Unwillingly, of course, since I would never admit my attraction aloud to anyone, least of all him. “That man” was the head of all the landscaping crews, Ryker Callen—a very fit, no-spare-fat-anywhere, muscular hottie on whom I’d helplessly had my eyes since the time I began working at Innovative Landscaping two years ago. A hunk to outdo all others, making my love-withered heart beat again. Naturally, the object of my, er, attention had never said much more to me than a friendly “‘sup, bro?”—which was how he greeted everyone—unless he needed something in particular, and why would he? I snapped and growled at everyone, though he never seemed fazed by it, and I was only marginally polite to the customers. Plus, he was likely straight as an arrow. Ryker was annoyingly endearing with his constant cheer. I knew I had no chance in hell with this man, and was content enough for him to be my secret eye candy. I worshipped him from afar, or up close underneath my eyelashes whenever he stepped into the office to grab supplies, work briefly at his corner desk, or hand over a check from a client. And why would I wish for anything else? A man like him probably had willing partners practically banging down his door. I simply couldn’t help myself, and while I’d had the occasional hookup over the years, after seeing Ryker for the first time, no one else would do. Which pissed me off and made me even more pissy in his presence. So, yes, I hadn’t had s*x in a long, long time. The smell of him, dirty and sweaty from working outside, no matter the weather, always made me hard with want, and, yeah, okay, it gave me great whack-off material at bedtime. It was a good thing I tended to wear loose, comfortable clothing in the hopes that I would look bulkier than my skinny frame actually was. Yup, hopeless. I couldn’t gain weight if I ate an elephant every day. Anyway, how could I compare with a tall, blond, built, hazel-eyed Adonis? I had never been able to tame the curly mop that was my brown, poufy hair, and it didn’t help that I wore mouth braces, which guaranteed I’d never get a date—nothing permanent, at least. On the bright side, I would finally have them removed in about a month’s time, thank God. They made me look like a teenager—though I always looked that way, in my opinion—and I was really tired of being called brace face, metal mouth, train tracks, zipper mouth…I’d heard it all, and from my own family, too. And they wondered why I never visited them anymore. Ryker was the stuff of dreams and I needed to— “Scotty!” Gavin used the tone of voice that said he’d been trying to get my attention for quite a while and was now highly irritated. I looked at him and frowned. “What?” He shook his head in exasperation. “I need you to call Mrs. Trumble about when she needs the landscaping crew to start working next week.” “Yeah, yeah,” I replied as I deactivated the screensaver on my computer and looked up her number in Outlook. Time to focus on work.